


Beauty in the eye of the beholder

by finlyfoe



Category: Homeland
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fun, Nude Beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 22:03:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7455568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finlyfoe/pseuds/finlyfoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaaanother one for the "naked Quinn" prompt....<br/>Which should be enough of a summary, let me add: Quinn's on a mission and Carrie has his back<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty in the eye of the beholder

**Author's Note:**

> ... and thanks to zeffy for the right words at the right time (totally unprompted ;-)) - and the picture of course  
>  have fun!

_I didn't take him for a beach guy..._  
Carrie takes in the sight. Male buttocks, firm, shining white, enframed by a toned tanned back and trained tanned legs. Then forces herself to look somewhere else - hey, the blue sky is also quite a sight, the dunes or the vast ocean... Within seconds however she finds herself drawn back to staring at naked Quinn.  
She checks herself. "Don't worry, I'll have your - back" she mumbles.  
"Am I all covered?" he goes cooly, scrutinizing his arms and legs glistening with oil, trying to peek at his own backside, then liberally applying some more sunoil.  
"Jesus, Quinn, aren't you a bit obsessed about your deliciously pale private parts, you're already covered in oil like a sardine. By the way, why didn't Max bring a suntan lotion? It's less sticky and way easier to wash away."  
"Because I am a professional, Carrie."  
"Quinn, you are talking incoherently - is this exposure to sun already taking its toll?!"  
He raises his left eyebrow about a tenth of an inch.  
"Close combat, hand-to-hand-fight tactics of the ancient Greeks. If you are greased in oil, your opponents can't get a grip on you. We have no idea what these guys have in store so I guess I better be prepared."  
Ah, right. She could have thought of that herself. Obviously naked Quinn has a negative effect on her brain capacity.  
"Yeah well how would I know, I don't run around fighting naked guys, Quinn."  
"I heard otherwise" he says with a very wicked grin.  
To get even, she looks him up and down in the most obvious way she can. He doesn't even flinch or blush. Probably that's what they train at black ops all day long: Staying unconcerned if naked and spotted by a damsel.  
 "You're good, off you go!" she says and considers pinching this truly tempting backside. "Don't even think about it" he says, obviously reading her mind, "or I'll report you for sexual harassment."  
"Dream on, Quinn", she goes and grabs the high-dissolve binoculars, "and take care out there."  
"Sure" he says and walks off with dignity, considering he is all naked and oily.

Carrie sighs. She has to stay at their make-shift beachhut, be the guardian of his clothes, his fully dressed partner in the mission and missing out on the real action. It will be all his, walking naked into the lion's den. Well, at least she has an excellent view...  
"He Quinn", she calls after him. He turns around and sees her smile broaden. "What?" "I just wondered... ah, doesn't matter..." Quinn gives her an exasperated look. Did she really just make him turn around to get a full frontal?!

  
After a few minutes of silence, walking on towards his destination, he asks "You're good back there?"  
"Yeah sure, I am throwing a party. I mean who'd like to go dangerseeking when one can sit around waiting idly for the hero to return, that's where girls belong, right....?"  
"I didn't exactly volunteer, Carrie..."  
She giggles. "Yeah, Virgil mentioned you were throwing a fit..."  
"Frigging Saul... Frigging Virgil... why didn't _he_ volunteer?"  
 "His Swedish fiance implied drastic measures in case any Russian girl would lay hands on his bare body..."  
"As if... anyway, it would be Ukrainians, and as much as I hope for girls laying hands on me I don't think we can expect _that_..."  
_Just wait till you're back, handsome..._

  
Truth be told, he was mad as hell when Saul came up with the issue. Well not so much the issue as such but his part in it - and Carrie of all people to come along for backup... A Ukrainian oligarch claiming to be a Russian agent and demanding a meeting. One CIA guy only, no weapons, no surveillance. To make sure his precautionary demands were met, the Ukrainian suggested to meet at a private nudist beach in Canada. Quite logical actually, strange no one ever had tried to pull off something like this before...  
So here he is, running naked into unknown territory, what a nightmare. Protection level zero, exposure level onehundred. Thank you Saul.

  
"You'll be good" she reaffirms him.  
"Yeah... I get why it had to be me..."Quinn says.    
"Is that so? And why?"  
"Because I am - best equipped."  
Carrie starts giggling which has a strange uplifting effect on him. Very uplifting indeed. An effect which is not lost on Carrie, even more amused: "Jesus, Quinn, do my eyes betray me? How old are you - 15?"  
Shit, he won't make a detour and soak himself in cold water - no way he'll endanger his close combat advantage...  
_Think of another strategy. Something sobering, off-turning. Something like: Frigging Saul bringing Carrie in. How degrading is that, stripping in front of your female co-worker who stays all dressed and eyes you over? Bloody sexual harassment, that's what it is... bet she doesn't take her eyes of my naked backside right now.... well, not exactly a turn-offish thought. - Think of a huge Ukrainian merc trying to break your skull... ah, great, that worked._

He is now heading towards the private strip of beach where he is to meet the afore mentioned Ukrainian oligarch Andryi Dimitrow. Dimitrow who is to have his bodyguards and whoever he likes around him while he, Quinn, on request by his superiors, is all alone and unarmed and vulnerable. And they don't even have any idea what Dimitrow wants to sell. But no good letting your anxieties and doubts seep through. Just do the job.  
Carrie watches him stride along, at a relaxed pace, not too slow, all confident. Now ain't he quite a sight, her cherished co-worker. Cocksure Quinn as ever.    
"Quinn... there's one thing I don't get... you're starking naked, how come we have a line?"  
"??? What do you mean?"  
"We are talking over a growing distance... I am here at the beachhut, you are walking towards Dimitrow, all naked, you can't have a hearing device or any kind of submitter, that's the point of his demandments, he would notice right away... Is that a brandnew technique? Why don't I know anything about it? Fuck - you don't have an implant? Where????"  
"Jesus Carrie - an implant, are you fucking out of your mind? - No, it's not real. It's all in my head, your arguing and leering and all..."  
"Thank God, that explains a lot, I mean, would I ever argue with you...would I leer?"  
He chuckles. It is nice to know she has his back and watches his every move. (At least that's what he hopes for.) He is aware he has to focus on this Dimitrow job right now, but maybe later... who knows what will happen when he gets back... the sun kissing their skin, reloading their batteries with vital energy... he'll talk her into taking off her stuff, it's all about equality, right... the lonely beach... the sand a soft resting place...  waves washing over them, the droning of the surf...  
"Quinn", she interrupts his stream of thought, " are you aware you're a weirdo - I mean: voices in your head?"  
"... says Crazy Carrie... I just try to relax and distract, that's why. I hate this situation, it's like being served for dessert on a silver platter", and the next thing he knows is, two blonde ladies, naked and living proof of the possibilites of plastic surgery, come up to him, looking at him like he _is_ the dessert, one puts her hand on his chest and purrs "would you pleaaaaze put some suntan lotion on my back, big boy, before I take you to Dimitrow?", and he feels like he is in some out-dated James Bond-movie.

  
From afar, with the help of the really excellent binoculars (CIA special equipment) Carrie watches Quinn interacting with two naked blonde women. What the hell is he doing there, is he, like - rubbing their backs? Oh God, how naive is that guy! He lets him be taken in by these vamps. Carrie fears for the worst, and right, there it seems to arrive: a vicious looking giant shows up,  all naked of course, bare head, red beard,  a walking display of wild tattoos. She can't make out if his demeanor is friendly, neutral or threatening because all of a sudden a wind shield is erected seemingly out of nowhere and so much for any observation from a safe distance, she's done, she doesn't see him any more, shit, they might slit his throat or stab his gorgeous back -  
She screams out in frustration, one sharp yell,  and clenches her fists. She runs her hand through her hair and grabs the cell-phone (secure line).

  
"Saul, I can't see him anymore. They've put up a makeshift windscreen. I have to get closer."  
"Carrie, stay where you are or you will endanger him."  
"Fuck, Saul, don't you think he is already  in danger?!"  
"Carrie, if they detect you, he is blown."  
"But Saul, I can't just let him-" "Yes you can and you will. Stay where you are.That's an order."  
"But Saul, he's all alone!"  
"He's always been alone. Just have a little faith."  
_Thing is, I don't, Saul. He looked so - exposed. And fucking hot. I would hate it if anything happened to this handsome nude tourist... Greek hand-to-hand fight techniques? wtf!_  
*****  
Three hours. It takes naked Quinn fucking three hours to make it back to their improvised beachhut. When he finally shows up, Carrie is a mess. Three fucking hours she has scanned the surroudings, has walked up and down the small area she is restricted to like a tiger in a cage, throwing Quinn's clothes on the ground, picking them up again, brushing off the sand with her hand, carefully folding them and putting them away, stopping in her tracks, going for his clothes again, grabbing his T-shirt and rubbing it against her cheek, taking in the Quinnish scent, close to tears. Stomping her foot on the ground. Tearing at her hair and her earlobes. Hell, she doesn't dare go up there, Saul is right, they might harm Quinn if they suspect false play. She considers going there nonetheless, strolling along like your accidental tourist but realizes it's not a good idea. She has to wait. Fuck, she hates this!  
Three hours, and suddenly he comes back into sight. The windshield is torn down, she watches some guys pack up and Quinn stumbling out, pulling himself together and heading towards her. He comes closer and closer, finally he is here and Carrie flies at him and throws her arms around his neck.    
"Jesus Quinn, that took long... I nearly started to worry..." and she leans against his strong bare body. She smells coconut and sweat and sun and she gets all dizzy. Ah she could ravish him right now, she is so glad he seems unharmed, and how could she resist all this delicious nakedness thrown at her?! She presses herself into him, her hands magically drawn to his backside. To her horror he winces with pain. She steps back, startled: "My God, Quinn, what did they do to you? What happened?"  
He shakes his head and awkwardly grabs his clothes.  
"I am fine, I am fine", he mumbles, "let's get to Saul, that Dimitrow is an interesting customer..." His speech is slightly slurry -  
"Shit, Quinn, you're drunk!"  
 "What can I say - Ukrainian hospitality", and he suppresses a hiccup. Just as he tries to put on his boxer-shorts, he winces again, and this time Carrie sees why: His shorts-area, three hours ago all deliciously marble white, is as red as a boiled lobster. Front and back. Ouch.    
"Jesus, Quinn", Carrie gasps, "you are fucking sunburnt!"  
"Yeah", he goes, stoically supressing the pain while secretly contemplating how to torture fucking Max who obviously bought the very wrong sunprotection factor.  
Even for Canada.

**Author's Note:**

> The title "Some things hurt" was unfortunately already taken ;-)
> 
> Liked the fic? Wanna discuss it or find out more about the writer?  
> -> http://homelandstuff.livejournal.com/11871.html#comments


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